Sousuke tilted his head slightly when Ryouta rubbed at his neck, only to make a soft sound himself as his cock slipped free of that molten grip. At least the sheltering cavern of his hips and their thighs prevented the beach air from freezing his sopping cock off. “You sound like it,” he murmured into the kiss. The second one earned a little hum and he leaned onto the towel again.

Took a moment to rest or so before he looked up as Ryouta stood (might have taken a little glance down to watch trickles of white drool down the inside of the other’s legs). Sousuke propped himself up on his elbows, a little smile, half cocky, half sheepish, playing at his lips. “I came twice, you know,” he reminded.